


Old Flame

by Kaerith



Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [12]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Daddy Kink, Geralt and Eskel hate it, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Meet the Family, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Vampire Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: The face, when it turns, is not the one Jaskier expects. The eyes are similar and the medallion is the same, but he is a stranger who just glares at Jaskier for bothering him."You're not the first witcher I've met," the bard says.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Vesemir
Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791685
Comments: 20
Kudos: 435
Collections: Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother), Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth)





	Old Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the neglected [Jaskier fucks Geralt's dad](https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=91309#cmt91309) prompt. Someone needed to write something for V/J, and I wanted to write something funny.

Jaskier sees the armor and swords and the _hair_ and skips up to the witcher to say, "Pleased to see you're still alive and kicking. What are you doing in Posada?"

The face, when it turns, is not the one Jaskier expects. The eyes are similar and the medallion is the same, but he is a stranger who just glares at Jaskier for bothering him.

The bard is not one to back down. "Sorry. Mistook you for someone else. My name's Jaskier. Do you have a comment on my performance? You look quite a chatty fellow, so please limit your critique to three words or less."

* * *

Jaskier follows Geralt, who seems to use his limited daily word allotment for complaints about how he doesn't want Jaskier around. Jaskier, a decorated scholar and devotee to the art of communication, doesn't fall for his shit because if Geralt truly meant it he would actually follow through with any of his threats. There was one sucker punch that was practically a love tap to one who has seen a witcher's real strength in action, but that was the only physical assault Geralt bothered with.

Obviously, by Autumn, Jaskier was Geralt's greatest and most beloved friend.

"Can I go with you to Kaer Morhen?"

"No. Wait- what? How do you know about Kaer Morhen?"

" _Please_. You're not the first witcher I've met."

* * *

Geralt desperately wants to know what other Witcher(s?) Jaskier has known, but he can't actually let himself be weak enough to simply ask. Jaskier is pretty sure that Geralt's curiosity is gnawing away at him and the bard takes great pleasure in acting oblivious and doesn't let his mostly one-sided conversation veer anywhere near the topic of Other Witchers Jaskier Has Met. If Geralt wants to know he will have to learn how to open his mouth and _ask_.

* * *

"You've brought a vampire?" Vesemir says, disbelievingly, to Geralt.

"What?" Geralt looks around in alarm. "No, that is Jaskier."

The man bounces up irrationally cheerful after such a grueling trek from the Kaedweni flatlands. "Are you saying you didn't know?" Geralt gets a quick glimpse of a smirk completely at odds with Jaskier's disappointed tone before the bard flings himself at Vesemir.

Geralt reaches for his silver sword but hears Vesemir fucking _laugh_ before he can pull his weapon.

His hand and jaw both drop as he watches his father figure and tag-along tumor embrace and suck face. It's _disgusting_.

* * *

"Vesemir was just a little baby witcher when we met," Jaskier says, later, as they and Geralt and Eskel are drinking.

"I was not. It was my sixty-eighth year, if I recall correctly," Vesemir corrects. The old man has been all pink-cheeked and grinning all night and Geralt and Eskel have been exchanging horrified looks for hours as their mentor has let the seemingly-young Higher Vampire bard drape himself all over him.

"Pffft," Jaskier huffs dismissively. "A _baby_. Anyway, I'm huddling in the charred remains of the stable, because the bandits who killed everyone and torched the entire town didn't actually bother to set the stable on fire- the flames from next door jumped to it and burned it last. I'm naked, because my clothes burned away, and covered in ashes and soot and still groggy from healing when this fucking bear just reaches in and snatches me up."

"A bear?" Vesemir asks skeptically. "There wasn't any bear."

Jaskier pokes him in the side and smacks his lips on the old man's cheek. "You were the bear, dumb-arse. It was fucking midwinter in Skellige and you had that disgusting bear pelt you bundled up in, remember? Wasn't even a proper coat."

Vesemir's eyes looked up and his expression went fond. "Oh yes. I do remember that coat. Lost it fighting a giant later that decade."

"Anyway," Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. "This bear grabs me and put the stinking pelt around me and says, 'Don't worry, boy, I'm a witcher.'" His impression of Vesemir isn't even half as good as Lambert's, but the crusty old bastard slaps his knee and laughs like the bard is the funniest thing he's seen in the last year.

Eskel and Geralt exchange a look verging on the nauseous panic of civilians taken hostage by cannibals. They have never seen Vesemir act like this.

Eskel lifts a hand cautiously to ask, "Don't Higher Vampires have the ability to charm their victims?"

"I thought you wanted to hear this story?" Vesemir says, a bit of his usual grumpiness back in place.

Jaskier just winks and keeps on chattering. "I had heard of witchers before but had never met one, so I thought I would just play along and pretend to be a boy- at least until I was recovered and could defend myself. So Vesemir puts me on Blinky and cuddles me until we get to the next town."

"Blinky?" Geralt interjects.

"That was the horse's name when I got it," Vesemir said defensively. Jaskier just used a hand to cover his smile until he could straighten his face before the old witcher looked back at him.

* * *

There was no explicit ending to that story; just the two of them reminiscing until Eskel and Geralt flee to Eskel's bedroom. Unfortunately, the moans and cries of "Daddy" they could hear from around the keep less than an hour later implicate a different "explicit ending" to the story.

* * *

The next morning is awkward. Vesemir is the last one to breakfast for the first time his students could ever recall, and Jaskier is a rumpled and smugly satiated mess. The keep is so silent that birds can be heard through the boarded-up windows.

Jaskier eventually breaks the tension, of course, when the old witcher finally staggers down to eat. The bard leans across the table to say, in a parody of a whisper, "Don't worry about losing any of your stamina as you get older!"

"Jask! You promised no suggestive comments!" Vesemir barks from the other side of the hearth. But it isn't the harsh reprimand like the thousands of ones Geralt and Eskel have heard from him before: it's _fond_.

Jaskier grins. "Maybe you just have a dirty mind, old man!"

When Vesemir brings his bowl out he says, "I told you these boys are like my sons. They don't want to hear anything about... _that_."

Eskel drops his spoon and cradles his head in his hands. "Already heard too much last night," he mutters.

Everyone ignores him. Jaskier just looks from Vesemir to Geralt with a growing look of deviousness. "Your sons, hmm? What's that term for when a human man marries a woman who has children? Step-father," he answers himself without even pretending to need to retrieve the term from memory. "Maybe now that Geralt finally knows that I am his elder he will finally afford me some respect and refer to me by a fitting title that also reflects our affection and camaraderie."

"'Pain-in-the-ass' doesn't?" Geralt growls.

Vesemir sighs. "This is going to be an enjoyable winter."

Jaskier leers and winks at him. "Definitely. For us."

"And Lambert isn't even here yet," Eskel moans into his hands. "I think I'd prefer spending winter at the Bastion. Even without a roof."

"I call the old iron mine," Geralt says, grimly.


End file.
